His only cure part-II

Aarav Malhotra did not believe in miracles.

Not after spending twenty-eight years being allergic to the world.

Literally.

A condition so rare doctors wrote papers about him —

no woman could touch his skin without triggering severe burning pain, nausea, or fainting.

His employees feared him.

Business rivals kept distance.

His own family didn’t hug him.

Aarav lived in an isolated bubble of gloves, sanitizers, and distance.

Cold.

Untouchable.

Untouched.

And everyone knew the rule:

Stay away from the CEO.

Don’t get close.

Don’t touch him.

Don’t even accidentally brush past him.

Everyone knew.

Except… one girl.

A girl who walked like sunshine without permission.

A girl who didn’t know rules because she always tried her best—but was born clumsy.

A girl whose innocence was louder than any warning sign.

Her name was Dimpal Chandel.

Beautiful.

Too beautiful.

Heart-shaped face, soft doe eyes, long silky hair tied in loose bows.

A smile that made strangers bless her silently.

Unaware of her charm.

Unaware of her danger.

Unaware that she was about to destroy Aarav Malhotra’s entire universe.

The Collision

It happened at the grand revolving doors of Malhotra Towers.

Dimpal, carrying too many books and her tiny peach-coloured bag, pushed the glass door a little too aggressively—

It spun faster—

The books slipped—

She stumbled—

And crashed straight into someone’s chest.

Tall.

Hard.

Cold.

Her fingers touched his jaw as she tried to balance herself.

Her palms pressed against his shoulders.

Her face brushed the side of his throat.

For a full three seconds…

She touched him.

Fully.

Accidentally.

Directly.

Skin on skin.

She gasped.

He froze.

Employees nearby dropped their files.

Someone whispered, “Oh god, she touched him.”

Another person crossed themselves like she just invited death.

Because the CEO—

he should be fainting by now.

He should be screaming from pain.

He should be collapsing.

But he wasn’t.

He didn’t fall.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t even blink.

Instead…

Aarav slowly looked down at the small girl pressed against him.

Her long eyelashes trembled.

Her lips parted in shock.

She smelled faintly of vanilla and jasmine.

Her hair tickled his throat.

He felt… nothing.

No pain.

No allergy.

No burning.

Rather—

Something warm.

Something electric.

Something frighteningly pleasant.

His heart—

the one he never felt—

skipped.

Who is she?

But Dimpal had a completely different panic.

“Oh my god—I’m so sorry—sorry sir—sorry please don’t fire me—I’m not even hired yet—sorry—sorry—SORRY—”

She babbled while trying to stand straight, but her foot tangled with her own bag strap and she bumped into him again.

Employees gasped.

Aarav caught her waist with one gloved hand—

and his bare wrist brushed her cheek.

Again.

Her warmth seeped into his skin… beautifully.

He felt dizzy.

Not from allergy.

From her.

He let her go only because she stepped back herself, cheeks pink like cherry blossoms.

She bowed ninety degrees.

“I-I swear I did not mean to crash into you. The door is too spinny.”

Aarav’s lips twitched—

the closest he came to a smile in years.

“Spinny,” he repeated softly.

She nodded like a nervous squirrel.

“Yes. Very spinny.”

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